A Sentimental Journey by Laurence Sterne

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A Sentimental Journey by Laurence SterneScanned and proofed by David Priceccx074@coventry.ac.uk

This is version senjr09 because all the italicized words in thetext are still CAPITALIZED, and we hope to leave only the wordscapitialized that were for EMPHASIS in senjr10. . .Michael Hart

A SENTIMENTAL JOURNEY THROUGH FRANCE AND ITALY

THEY order, said I, this matter better in France. - You have beenin France? said my gentleman, turning quick upon me, with the mostcivil triumph in the world. - Strange! quoth I, debating the matterwith myself, That one and twenty miles sailing, for 'tis absolutelyno further from Dover to Calais, should give a man these rights: -I'll look into them: so, giving up the argument, - I went straightto my lodgings, put up half a dozen shirts and a black pair of silkbreeches, - "the coat I have on," said I, looking at the sleeve,"will do;" - took a place in the Dover stage; and the packetsailing at nine the next morning, - by three I had got sat down tomy dinner upon a fricaseed chicken, so incontestably in France,that had I died that night of an indigestion, the whole world couldnot have suspended the effects of the DROITS D'AUBAINE; - myshirts, and black pair of silk breeches, - portmanteau and all,must have gone to the King of France; - even the little picturewhich I have so long worn, and so often have told thee, Eliza, Iwould carry with me into my grave, would have been torn from myneck! - Ungenerous! to seize upon the wreck of an unwary passenger,whom your subjects had beckoned to their coast! - By heaven! Sire,it is not well done; and much does it grieve me, 'tis the monarchof a people so civilized and courteous, and so renowned forsentiment and fine feelings, that I have to reason with! -

But I have scarce set a foot in your dominions. -

CALAIS.

WHEN I had fished my dinner, and drank the King of France's health,to satisfy my mind that I bore him no spleen, but, on the contrary,high honour for the humanity of his temper, - I rose up an inchtaller for the accommodation.

- No - said I - the Bourbon is by no means a cruel race: they maybe misled, like other people; but there is a mildness in theirblood. As I acknowledged this, I felt a suffusion of a finer kindupon my cheek - more warm and friendly to man, than what Burgundy(at least of two livres a bottle, which was such as I had beendrinking) could have produced.

- Just God! said I, kicking my portmanteau aside, what is there inthis world's goods which should sharpen our spirits, and make somany kind-hearted brethren of us fall out so cruelly as we do bythe way?

When man is at peace with man, how much lighter than a feather isthe heaviest of metals in his hand! he pulls out his purse, andholding it airily and uncompressed, looks round him, as if hesought for an object to share it with. - In doing this, I feltevery vessel in my frame dilate, - the arteries beat all cheerilytogether, and every power which sustained life, performed it withso little friction, that 'twould have confounded the most PHYSICALPRECIEUSE in France; with all her materialism, she could scarcehave called me a machine. -

I'm confident, said I to myself, I should have overset her creed.

The accession of that idea carried nature, at that time, as high asshe could go; - I was at peace with the world before, and thisfinish'd the treaty with myself. -

- Now, was I King of France, cried I - what a moment for an orphanto have begg'd his father's portmanteau of me!

THE MONK. CALAIS.

I HAD scarce uttered the words, when a poor monk of the order ofSt. Francis came into the room to beg something for a his convent.No man cares to have his virtues the sport of contingencies - orone man may be generous, as another is puissant; - SED NON QUOADHANC - or be it as it may, - for there is no regular reasoning uponthe ebbs and flows of our humours; they may depend upon the samecauses, for aught I know, which influence the tides themselves:'twould oft be no discredit to us, to suppose it was so: I'm sureat least for myself, that in many a case I should be more highlysatisfied, to have it said by the world, "I had had an affair withthe moon, in which there was neither sin nor shame," than have itpass altogether as my own act and deed, wherein there was so muchof both.

- But, be this as it may, - the moment I cast my eyes upon him, Iwas predetermined not to give him a single sous; and, accordingly,I put my purse into my pocket - buttoned it - set myself a littlemore upon my centre, and advanced up gravely to him; there wassomething, I fear, forbidding in my look: I have his figure thismoment before my eyes, and think there was that in it whichdeserved better.

The monk, as I judged by the break in his tonsure, a few scatteredwhite hairs upon his temples, being all that remained of it, mightbe about seventy; - but from his eyes, and that sort of fire whichwas in them, which seemed more temper'd by courtesy than years,could be no more than sixty: - Truth might lie between - He wascertainly sixty-five; and the general air of his countenance,notwithstanding something seem'd to have been planting-wrinkles init before their time, agreed to the account.

It was one of those heads which Guido has often painted, - mild,pale - penetrating, free from all commonplace ideas of fatcontented ignorance looking downwards upon the earth; - it look'dforwards; but look'd as if it look'd at something beyond thisworld. - How one of his order came by it, heaven above, who let itfall upon a monk's shoulders best knows: but it would have suited aBramin, and had I met it upon the plains of Indostan, I hadreverenced it.

The rest of his outline may be given in a few strokes; one mightput it into the hands of any one to design, for 'twas neitherelegant nor otherwise, but as character and expression made it so:it was a thin, spare form, something above the common size, if itlost not the distinction by a bend forward in the figure, - but itwas the attitude of Intreaty; and, as it now stands presented to myimagination, it gained more than it lost by it.

When he had entered the room three paces, he stood still; andlaying his left hand upon his breast (a slender white staff withwhich he journey'd being in his right) - when I had got close up tohim, he introduced himself with the little story of the wants ofhis convent, and the poverty of his order; - and did it with sosimple a grace, - and such an air of deprecation was there in thewhole cast of his look and figure, - I was bewitch'd not to havebeen struck with it.

- A better reason was, I had predetermined not to give him a singlesous.

THE MONK. CALAIS.

- 'Tis very true, said I, replying to a cast upwards with his eyes,with which he had concluded his address; - 'tis very true, - andheaven be their resource who have no other but the charity of theworld, the stock of which, I fear, is no way sufficient for themany GREAT CLAIMS which are hourly made upon it.

As I pronounced the words GREAT CLAIMS, he gave a slight glancewith his eye downwards upon the sleeve of his tunic: - I felt thefull force of the appeal - I acknowledge it, said I: - a coarsehabit, and that but once in three years with meagre diet, - are nogreat matters; and the true point of pity is, as they can be earn'din the world with so little industry, that your order should wishto procure them by pressing upon a fund which is the property ofthe lame, the blind, the aged and the infirm; - the captive wholies down counting over and over again the days of his afflictions,languishes also for his share of it; and had you been of the ORDEROF MERCY, instead of the order of St. Francis, poor as I am,continued I, pointing at my portmanteau, full cheerfully should ithave been open'd to you, for the ransom of the unfortunate. - Themonk made me a bow. - But of all others, resumed I, the unfortunateof our own country, surely, have the first rights; and I have leftthousands in distress upon our own shore. - The monk gave a cordialwave with his head, - as much as to say, No doubt there is miseryenough in every corner of the world, as well as within our convent- But we distinguish, said I, laying my hand upon the sleeve of histunic, in return for his appeal - we distinguish, my good father!betwixt those who wish only to eat the bread of their own labour -and those who eat the bread of other people's, and have no otherplan in life, but to get through it in sloth and ignorance, FOR THELOVE OF GOD.

The poor Franciscan made no reply: a hectic of a moment pass'dacross his cheek, but could not tarry - Nature seemed to have donewith her resentments in him; - he showed none: - but letting hisstaff fall within his arms, he pressed both his hands withresignation upon his breast, and retired.

THE MONK. CALAIS.

MY heart smote me the moment he shut the door - Psha! said I, withan air of carelessness, three several times - but it would not do:every ungracious syllable I had utter'd crowded back into myimagination: I reflected, I had no right over the poor Franciscan,but to deny him; and that the punishment of that was enough to thedisappointed, without the addition of unkind language. - Iconsider'd his gray hairs - his courteous figure seem'd to re-enterand gently ask me what injury he had done me? - and why I could usehim thus? - I would have given twenty livres for an advocate. - Ihave behaved very ill, said I within myself; but I have only justset out upon my travels; and shall learn better manners as I getalong.

THE DESOBLIGEANT. CALAIS.

WHEN a man is discontented with himself, it has one advantagehowever, that it puts him into an excellent frame of mind formaking a bargain. Now there being no travelling through France andItaly without a chaise, - and nature generally prompting us to thething we are fittest for, I walk'd out into the coach-yard to buyor hire something of that kind to my purpose: an old DESOBLIGEANTin the furthest corner of the court, hit my fancy at first sight,so I instantly got into it, and finding it in tolerable harmonywith my feelings, I ordered the waiter to call Monsieur Dessein,the master of the hotel: - but Monsieur Dessein being gone tovespers, and not caring to face the Franciscan, whom I saw on theopposite side of the court, in conference with a lady just arrivedat the inn, - I drew the taffeta curtain betwixt us, and beingdetermined to write my journey, I took out my pen and ink and wrotethe preface to it in the DESOBLIGEANT.

PREFACE. IN THE DESOBLIGEANT.

IT must have been observed by many a peripatetic philosopher, Thatnature has set up by her own unquestionable authority certainboundaries and fences to circumscribe the discontent of man; shehas effected her purpose in the quietest and easiest manner bylaying him under almost insuperable obligations to work out hisease, and to sustain his sufferings at home. It is there only thatshe has provided him with the most suitable objects to partake ofhis happiness, and bear a part of that burden which in allcountries and ages has ever been too heavy for one pair ofshoulders. 'Tis true, we are endued with an imperfect power ofspreading our happiness sometimes beyond HER limits, but 'tis soordered, that, from the want of languages, connections, anddependencies, and from the difference in education, customs, andhabits, we lie under so many impediments in communicating oursensations out of our own sphere, as often amount to a totalimpossibility.

It will always follow from hence, that the balance of sentimentalcommerce is always against the expatriated adventurer: he must buywhat he has little occasion for, at their own price; - hisconversation will seldom be taken in exchange for theirs without alarge discount, - and this, by the by, eternally driving him intothe hands of more equitable brokers, for such conversation as hecan find, it requires no great spirit of divination to guess at hisparty -

This brings me to my point; and naturally leads me (if the see-sawof this DESOBLIGEANT will but let me get on) into the efficient aswell as final causes of travelling -

Your idle people that leave their native country, and go abroad forsome reason or reasons which may be derived from one of thesegeneral causes:-

Infirmity of body,Imbecility of mind, orInevitable necessity.

The first two include all those who travel by land or by water,labouring with pride, curiosity, vanity, or spleen, subdivided andcombined AD INFINITUM.

The third class includes the whole army of peregrine martyrs; moreespecially those travellers who set out upon their travels with thebenefit of the clergy, either as delinquents travelling under thedirection of governors recommended by the magistrate; - or younggentlemen transported by the cruelty of parents and guardians, andtravelling under the direction of governors recommended by Oxford,Aberdeen, and Glasgow.

There is a fourth class, but their number is so small that theywould not deserve a distinction, were it not necessary in a work ofthis nature to observe the greatest precision and nicety, to avoida confusion of character. And these men I speak of, are such ascross the seas and sojourn in a land of strangers, with a view ofsaving money for various reasons and upon various pretences: but asthey might also save themselves and others a great deal ofunnecessary trouble by saving their money at home, - and as theirreasons for travelling are the least complex of any other speciesof emigrants, I shall distinguish these gentlemen by the name of

Simple Travellers.

Thus the whole circle of travellers may be reduced to the followingHEADS:-

And last of all (if you please) The Sentimental Traveller, (meaningthereby myself) who have travell'd, and of which I am now sittingdown to give an account, - as much out of NECESSITY, and the BESOINDE VOYAGER, as any one in the class.

I am well aware, at the same time, as both my travels andobservations will be altogether of a different cast from any of myforerunners, that I might have insisted upon a whole nitch entirelyto myself; - but I should break in upon the confines of the VAINTraveller, in wishing to draw attention towards me, till I havesome better grounds for it than the mere NOVELTY OF MY VEHICLE.

It is sufficient for my reader, if he has been a traveller himself,that with study and reflection hereupon he may be able to determinehis own place and rank in the catalogue; - it will be one steptowards knowing himself; as it is great odds but he retains sometincture and resemblance, of what he imbibed or carried out, to thepresent hour.

The man who first transplanted the grape of Burgundy to the Cape ofGood Hope (observe he was a Dutchman) never dreamt of drinking thesame wine at the Cape, that the same grape produced upon the Frenchmountains, - he was too phlegmatic for that - but undoubtedly heexpected to drink some sort of vinous liquor; but whether good orbad, or indifferent, - he knew enough of this world to know, thatit did not depend upon his choice, but that what is generallycalled CHOICE, was to decide his success: however, he hoped for thebest; and in these hopes, by an intemperate confidence in thefortitude of his head, and the depth of his discretion, MYNHEERmight possibly oversee both in his new vineyard; and by discoveringhis nakedness, become a laughing stock to his people.

Even so it fares with the Poor Traveller, sailing and postingthrough the politer kingdoms of the globe, in pursuit of knowledgeand improvements.

Knowledge and improvements are to be got by sailing and posting forthat purpose; but whether useful knowledge and real improvements isall a lottery; - and even where the adventurer is successful, theacquired stock must be used with caution and sobriety, to turn toany profit: - but, as the chances run prodigiously the other way,both as to the acquisition and application, I am of opinion, That aman would act as wisely, if he could prevail upon himself to livecontented without foreign knowledge or foreign improvements,especially if he lives in a country that has no absolute want ofeither; - and indeed, much grief of heart has it oft and many atime cost me, when I have observed how many a foul step theInquisitive Traveller has measured to see sights and look intodiscoveries; all which, as Sancho Panza said to Don Quixote, theymight have seen dry-shod at home. It is an age so full of light,that there is scarce a country or corner in Europe whose beams arenot crossed and interchanged with others. - Knowledge in most ofits branches, and in most affairs, is like music in an Italianstreet, whereof those may partake who pay nothing. - But there isno nation under heaven - and God is my record (before whosetribunal I must one day come and give an account of this work) -that I do not speak it vauntingly, - but there is no nation underheaven abounding with more variety of learning, - where thesciences may be more fitly woo'd, or more surely won, than here, -where art is encouraged, and will so soon rise high, - where Nature(take her altogether) has so little to answer for, - and, to closeall, where there is more wit and variety of character to feed themind with: - Where then, my dear countrymen, are you going? -

We are only looking at this chaise, said they. - Your most obedientservant, said I, skipping out of it, and pulling off my hat. - Wewere wondering, said one of them, who, I found was an INQUISITIVETRAVELLER, - what could occasion its motion. - 'Twas the agitation,said I, coolly, of writing a preface. - I never heard, said theother, who was a SIMPLE TRAVELLER, of a preface wrote in aDESOBLIGEANT. - It would have been better, said I, in a VIS-A-VIS.

- AS AN ENGLISHMAN DOES NOT TRAVEL TO SEE ENGLISHMEN, I retired tomy room.

CALAIS.

I PERCEIVED that something darken'd the passage more than myself,as I stepp'd along it to my room; it was effectually Mons. Dessein,the master of the hotel, who had just returned from vespers, andwith his hat under his arm, was most complaisantly following me, toput me in mind of my wants. I had wrote myself pretty well out ofconceit with the DESOBLIGEANT, and Mons. Dessein speaking of it,with a shrug, as if it would no way suit me, it immediately struckmy fancy that it belong'd to some INNOCENT TRAVELLER, who, on hisreturn home, had left it to Mons. Dessein's honour to make the mostof. Four months had elapsed since it had finished its career ofEurope in the corner of Mons. Dessein's coach-yard; and havingsallied out from thence but a vampt-up business at the first,though it had been twice taken to pieces on Mount Sennis, it hadnot profited much by its adventures, - but by none so little as thestanding so many months unpitied in the corner of Mons. Dessein'scoach-yard. Much indeed was not to be said for it, - but somethingmight; - and when a few words will rescue misery out of herdistress, I hate the man who can be a churl of them.

- Now was I the master of this hotel, said I, laying the point ofmy fore-finger on Mons. Dessein's breast, I would inevitably make apoint of getting rid of this unfortunate DESOBLIGEANT; - it standsswinging reproaches at you every time you pass by it.

MON DIEU! said Mons. Dessein, - I have no interest - Except theinterest, said I, which men of a certain turn of mind take, Mons.Dessein, in their own sensations, - I'm persuaded, to a man whofeels for others as well as for himself, every rainy night,disguise it as you will, must cast a damp upon your spirits: - Yousuffer, Mons. Dessein, as much as the machine -

I have always observed, when there is as much SOUR as SWEET in acompliment, that an Englishman is eternally at a loss withinhimself, whether to take it, or let it alone: a Frenchman never is:Mons. Dessein made me a bow.

C'EST BIEN VRAI, said he. - But in this case I should only exchangeone disquietude for another, and with loss: figure to yourself, mydear Sir, that in giving you a chaise which would fall to piecesbefore you had got half-way to Paris, - figure to yourself how muchI should suffer, in giving an ill impression of myself to a man ofhonour, and lying at the mercy, as I must do, D'UN HOMME D'ESPRIT.

The dose was made up exactly after my own prescription; so I couldnot help tasting it, - and, returning Mons. Dessein his bow,without more casuistry we walk'd together towards his Remise, totake a view of his magazine of chaises.

IN THE STREET. CALAIS.

IT must needs be a hostile kind of a world, when the buyer (if itbe but of a sorry post-chaise) cannot go forth with the sellerthereof into the street to terminate the difference betwixt them,but he instantly falls into the same frame of mind, and views hisconventionist with the same sort of eye, as if he was going alongwith him to Hyde-park corner to fight a duel. For my own part,being but a poor swordsman, and no way a match for MonsieurDessein, I felt the rotation of all the movements within me, towhich the situation is incident; - I looked at Monsieur Desseinthrough and through - eyed him as he walk'd along in profile, -then, EN FACE; - thought like a Jew, - then a Turk, - disliked hiswig, - cursed him by my gods, - wished him at the devil. -

- And is all this to be lighted up in the heart for a beggarlyaccount of three or four louis d'ors, which is the most I can beoverreached in? - Base passion! said I, turning myself about, as aman naturally does upon a sudden reverse of sentiment, - base,ungentle passion! thy hand is against every man, and every man'shand against thee. - Heaven forbid! said she, raising her hand upto her forehead, for I had turned full in front upon the lady whomI had seen in conference with the monk: - she had followed usunperceived. - Heaven forbid, indeed! said I, offering her my own;- she had a black pair of silk gloves, open only at the thumb andtwo fore-fingers, so accepted it without reserve, - and I led herup to the door of the Remise.

Monsieur Dessein had DIABLED the key above fifty times before hehad found out he had come with a wrong one in his hand: we were asimpatient as himself to have it opened; and so attentive to theobstacle that I continued holding her hand almost without knowingit: so that Monsieur Dessein left us together with her hand inmine, and with our faces turned towards the door of the Remise, andsaid he would be back in five minutes.

Now a colloquy of five minutes, in such a situation, is worth oneof as many ages, with your faces turned towards the street: in thelatter case, 'tis drawn from the objects and occurrences without; -when your eyes are fixed upon a dead blank, - you draw purely fromyourselves. A silence of a single moment upon Mons. Dessein'sleaving us, had been fatal to the situation - she had infalliblyturned about; - so I begun the conversation instantly. -

- But what were the temptations (as I write not to apologize forthe weaknesses of my heart in this tour, - but to give an accountof them) - shall be described with the same simplicity with which Ifelt them.

THE REMISE DOOR. CALAIS.

WHEN I told the reader that I did not care to get out of theDESOBLIGEANT, because I saw the monk in close conference with alady just arrived at the inn - I told him the truth, - but I didnot tell him the whole truth; for I was as full as much restrainedby the appearance and figure of the lady he was talking to.Suspicion crossed my brain and said, he was telling her what hadpassed: something jarred upon it within me, - I wished him at hisconvent.

When the heart flies out before the understanding, it saves thejudgment a world of pains. - I was certain she was of a betterorder of beings; - however, I thought no more of her, but went onand wrote my preface.

The impression returned upon my encounter with her in the street; aguarded frankness with which she gave me her hand, showed, Ithought, her good education and her good sense; and as I led heron, I felt a pleasurable ductility about her, which spread acalmness over all my spirits -

- Good God! how a man might lead such a creature as this round theworld with him! -

I had not yet seen her face - 'twas not material: for the drawingwas instantly set about, and long before we had got to the door ofthe Remise, FANCY had finished the whole head, and pleased herselfas much with its fitting her goddess, as if she had dived into theTiber for it; - but thou art a seduced, and a seducing slut; andalbeit thou cheatest us seven times a day with thy pictures andimages, yet with so many charms dost thou do it, and thou deckestout thy pictures in the shapes of so many angels of light, 'tis ashame to break with thee.

When we had got to the door of the Remise, she withdrew her handfrom across her forehead, and let me see the original: - it was aface of about six-and-twenty, - of a clear transparent brown,simply set off without rouge or powder; - it was not criticallyhandsome, but there was that in it, which, in the frame of mind Iwas in, attached me much more to it, - it was interesting: Ifancied it wore the characters of a widow'd look, and in that stateof its declension, which had passed the two first paroxysms ofsorrow, and was quietly beginning to reconcile itself to its loss;- but a thousand other distresses might have traced the same lines;I wish'd to know what they had been - and was ready to inquire,(had the same BON TON of conversation permitted, as in the days ofEsdras) - "WHAT AILELH THEE? AND WHY ART THOU DISQUIETED? AND WHYIS THY UNDERSTANDING TROUBLED?" - In a word, I felt benevolence forher; and resolv'd some way or other to throw in my mite ofcourtesy, - if not of service.

Such were my temptations; - and in this disposition to give way tothem, was I left alone with the lady with her hand in mine, andwith our faces both turned closer to the door of the Remise thanwhat was absolutely necessary.

THE REMISE DOOR. CALAIS.

THIS certainly, fair lady, said I, raising her hand up littlelightly as I began, must be one of Fortune's whimsical doings; totake two utter strangers by their hands, - of different sexes, andperhaps from different corners of the globe, and in one momentplace them together in such a cordial situation as Friendshipherself could scarce have achieved for them, had she projected itfor a month.

- And your reflection upon it shows how much, Monsieur, she hasembarrassed you by the adventure -

When the situation is what we would wish, nothing is so ill-timedas to hint at the circumstances which make it so: you thankFortune, continued she - you had reason - the heart knew it, andwas satisfied; and who but an English philosopher would have sentnotice of it to the brain to reverse the judgment?

In saying this, she disengaged her hand with a look which I thoughta sufficient commentary upon the text.

It is a miserable picture which I am going to give of the weaknessof my heart, by owning, that it suffered a pain, which worthieroccasions could not have inflicted. - I was mortified with the lossof her hand, and the manner in which I had lost it carried neitheroil nor wine to the wound: I never felt the pain of a sheepishinferiority so miserably in my life.

The triumphs of a true feminine heart are short upon thesediscomfitures. In a very few seconds she laid her hand upon thecuff of my coat, in order to finish her reply; so, some way orother, God knows how, I regained my situation.

- She had nothing to add.

I forthwith began to model a different conversation for the lady,thinking from the spirit as well as moral of this, that I had beenmistaken in her character; but upon turning her face towards me,the spirit which had animated the reply was fled, - the musclesrelaxed, and I beheld the same unprotected look of distress whichfirst won me to her interest: - melancholy! to see suchsprightliness the prey of sorrow, - I pitied her from my soul; andthough it may seem ridiculous enough to a torpid heart, - I couldhave taken her into my arms, and cherished her, though it was inthe open street, without brushing.

The pulsations of the arteries along my fingers pressing acrosshers, told her what was passing within me: she looked down - asilence of some moments followed.

I fear in this interval, I must have made some slight effortstowards a closer compression of her hand, from a subtle sensation Ifelt in the palm of my own, - not as if she was going to withdrawhers - but as if she thought about it; - and I had infallibly lostit a second time, had not instinct more than reason directed me tothe last resource in these dangers, - to hold it loosely, and in amanner as if I was every moment going to release it, of myself; soshe let it continue, till Monsieur Dessein returned with the key;and in the mean time I set myself to consider how I should undo theill impressions which the poor monk's story, in case he had told ither, must have planted in her breast against me.

THE SNUFF BOX. CALAIS.

THE good old monk was within six paces of us, as the idea of himcrossed my mind; and was advancing towards us a little out of theline, as if uncertain whether he should break in upon us or no. -He stopp'd, however, as soon as he came up to us, with a world offrankness: and having a horn snuff box in his hand, he presented itopen to me. - You shall taste mine - said I, pulling out my box(which was a small tortoise one) and putting it into his hand. -'Tis most excellent, said the monk. Then do me the favour, Ireplied, to accept of the box and all, and when you take a pinchout of it, sometimes recollect it was the peace offering of a manwho once used you unkindly, but not from his heart.

The poor monk blush'd as red as scarlet. MON DIEU! said he,pressing his hands together - you never used me unkindly. - Ishould think, said the lady, he is not likely. I blush'd in myturn; but from what movements, I leave to the few who feel, toanalyze. - Excuse me, Madame, replied I, - I treated him mostunkindly; and from no provocations. - 'Tis impossible, said thelady. - My God! cried the monk, with a warmth of asseveration whichseem'd not to belong to him - the fault was in me, and in theindiscretion of my zeal. - The lady opposed it, and I joined withher in maintaining it was impossible, that a spirit so regulated ashis, could give offence to any.

I knew not that contention could be rendered so sweet andpleasurable a thing to the nerves as I then felt it. - We remainedsilent, without any sensation of that foolish pain which takesplace, when, in such a circle, you look for ten minutes in oneanother's faces without saying a word. Whilst this lasted, themonk rubbed his horn box upon the sleeve of his tunic; and as soonas it had acquired a little air of brightness by the friction - hemade me a low bow, and said, 'twas too late to say whether it wasthe weakness or goodness of our tempers which had involved us inthis contest - but be it as it would, - he begg'd we might exchangeboxes. - In saying this, he presented his to me with one hand, ashe took mine from me in the other, and having kissed it, - with astream of good nature in his eyes, he put it into his bosom, - andtook his leave.

I guard this box, as I would the instrumental parts of my religion,to help my mind on to something better: in truth, I seldom goabroad without it; and oft and many a time have I called up by itthe courteous spirit of its owner to regulate my own, in thejustlings of the world: they had found full employment for his, asI learnt from his story, till about the forty-fifth year of hisage, when upon some military services ill requited, and meeting atthe same time with a disappointment in the tenderest of passions,he abandoned the sword and the sex together, and took sanctuary notso much in his convent as in himself.

I feel a damp upon my spirits, as I am going to add, that in mylast return through Calais, upon enquiring after Father Lorenzo, Iheard he had been dead near three months, and was buried, not inhis convent, but, according to his desire, in a little cemeterybelonging to it, about two leagues off: I had a strong desire tosee where they had laid him, - when, upon pulling out his littlehorn box, as I sat by his grave, and plucking up a nettle or two atthe head of it, which had no business to grow there, they allstruck together so forcibly upon my affections, that I burst into aflood of tears: - but I am as weak as a woman; and I beg the worldnot to smile, but to pity me.

THE REMISE DOOR. CALAIS.

I HAD never quitted the lady's hand all this time, and had held itso long, that it would have been indecent to have let it go,without first pressing it to my lips: the blood and spirits, whichhad suffered a revulsion from her, crowded back to her as I did it.

Now the two travellers, who had spoke to me in the coach-yard,happening at that crisis to be passing by, and observing ourcommunications, naturally took it into their heads that we must beMAN AND WIFE at least; so, stopping as soon as they came up to thedoor of the Remise, the one of them who was the InquisitiveTraveller, ask'd us, if we set out for Paris the next morning? - Icould only answer for myself, I said; and the lady added, she wasfor Amiens. - We dined there yesterday, said the Simple Traveller.- You go directly through the town, added the other, in your roadto Paris. I was going to return a thousand thanks for theintelligence, THAT AMIENS WAS IN THE ROAD TO PARIS, but, uponpulling out my poor monk's little horn box to take a pinch ofsnuff, I made them a quiet bow, and wishing them a good passage toDover. - They left us alone. -

- Now where would be the harm, said I to myself, if I were to begof this distressed lady to accept of half of my chaise? - and whatmighty mischief could ensue?

Every dirty passion, and bad propensity in my nature took thealarm, as I stated the proposition. - It will oblige you to have athird horse, said Avarice, which will put twenty livres out of yourpocket; - You know not what she is, said Caution; - or what scrapesthe affair may draw you into, whisper'd Cowardice. -

Depend upon it, Yorick! said Discretion, 'twill be said you wentoff with a mistress, and came by assignation to Calais for thatpurpose; -

- You can never after, cried Hypocrisy aloud, show your face in theworld; - or rise, quoth Meanness, in the church; - or be any thingin it, said Pride, but a lousy prebendary.

But 'tis a civil thing, said I; - and as I generally act from thefirst impulse, and therefore seldom listen to these cabals, whichserve no purpose, that I know of, but to encompass the heart withadamant - I turned instantly about to the lady. -

- But she had glided off unperceived, as the cause was pleading,and had made ten or a dozen paces down the street, by the time Ihad made the determination; so I set off after her with a longstride, to make her the proposal, with the best address I wasmaster of: but observing she walk'd with her cheek half restingupon the palm of her hand, - with the slow short-measur'd step ofthoughtfulness, - and with her eyes, as she went step by step,fixed upon the ground, it struck me she was trying the same causeherself. - God help her! said I, she has some mother-in-law, ortartufish aunt, or nonsensical old woman, to consult upon theoccasion, as well as myself: so not caring to interrupt theprocess, and deeming it more gallant to take her at discretion thanby surprise, I faced about and took a short turn or two before thedoor of the Remise, whilst she walk'd musing on one side.

IN THE STREET. CALAIS.

HAVING, on the first sight of the lady, settled the affair in myfancy "that she was of the better order of beings;" - and then laidit down as a second axiom, as indisputable as the first, that shewas a widow, and wore a character of distress, - I went no further;I got ground enough for the situation which pleased me; - and hadshe remained close beside my elbow till midnight, I should haveheld true to my system, and considered her only under that generalidea.

She had scarce got twenty paces distant from me, ere somethingwithin me called out for a more particular enquiry; - it brought onthe idea of a further separation: - I might possibly never see hermore: - The heart is for saving what it can; and I wanted thetraces through which my wishes might find their way to her, in caseI should never rejoin her myself; in a word, I wished to know hername, - her family's - her condition; and as I knew the place towhich she was going, I wanted to know from whence she came: butthere was no coming at all this intelligence; a hundred littledelicacies stood in the way. I form'd a score different plans. -There was no such thing as a man's asking her directly; - the thingwas impossible.

A little French DEBONNAIRE captain, who came dancing down thestreet, showed me it was the easiest thing in the world: for,popping in betwixt us, just as the lady was returning back to thedoor of the Remise, he introduced himself to my acquaintance, andbefore he had well got announced, begg'd I would do him the honourto present him to the lady. - I had not been presented myself; - soturning about to her, he did it just as well, by asking her if shehad come from Paris? No: she was going that route, she said. -VOUS N'ETES PAS DE LONDRES? - She was not, she replied. - ThenMadame must have come through Flanders. - APPAREMMENT VOUS ETESFLAMMANDE? said the French captain. - The lady answered, she was. -PEUT ETRE DE LISLE? added he. - She said, she was not of Lisle. -Nor Arras? - nor Cambray? - nor Ghent? - nor Brussels? - Sheanswered, she was of Brussels.

He had had the honour, he said, to be at the bombardment of it lastwar; - that it was finely situated, POUR CELA, - and full ofnoblesse when the Imperialists were driven out by the French (thelady made a slight courtesy) - so giving her an account of theaffair, and of the share he had had in it, - he begg'd the honourto know her name, - so made his bow.

- ET MADAME A SON MARI? - said he, looking back when he had madetwo steps, - and, without staying for an answer - danced down thestreet.

Had I served seven years apprenticeship to good breeding, I couldnot have done as much.

THE REMISE. CALAIS.

AS the little French captain left us, Mons. Dessein came up withthe key of the Remise in his hand, and forthwith let us into hismagazine of chaises.

The first object which caught my eye, as Mons. Dessein open'd thedoor of the Remise, was another old tatter'd DESOBLIGEANT; andnotwithstanding it was the exact picture of that which had hit myfancy so much in the coach-yard but an hour before, - the verysight of it stirr'd up a disagreeable sensation within me now; andI thought 'twas a churlish beast into whose heart the idea couldfirst enter, to construct such a machine; nor had I much morecharity for the man who could think of using it.

I observed the lady was as little taken with it as myself: so Mons.Dessein led us on to a couple of chaises which stood abreast,telling us, as he recommended them, that they had been purchased bymy lord A. and B. to go the grand tour, but had gone no furtherthan Paris, so were in all respects as good as new. - They were toogood; - so I pass'd on to a third, which stood behind, andforthwith begun to chaffer for the price. - But 'twill scarce holdtwo, said I, opening the door and getting in. - Have the goodness,Madame, said Mons. Dessein, offering his arm, to step in. - Thelady hesitated half a second, and stepped in; and the waiter thatmoment beckoning to speak to Mon. Dessein, he shut the door of thechaise upon us, and left us.

THE REMISE. CALAIS.

C'EST BIEN COMIQUE, 'tis very droll, said the lady, smiling, fromthe reflection that this was the second time we a had been lefttogether by a parcel of nonsensical contingencies, - C'EST BIENCOMIQUE, said she. -

- There wants nothing, said I, to make it so but the comic usewhich the gallantry of a Frenchman would put it to, - to make lovethe first moment, and an offer of his person the second.

'Tis their FORT, replied the lady.

It is supposed so at least; - and how it has come to pass,continued I, I know not; but they have certainly got the credit ofunderstanding more of love, and making it better than any othernation upon earth; but, for my own part, I think them arrantbunglers, and in truth the worst set of marksmen that ever triedCupid's patience.

- To think of making love by SENTIMENTS!

I should as soon think of making a genteel suit of clothes out ofremnants: - and to do it - pop - at first sight, by declaration -is submitting the offer, and themselves with it, to be sifted withall their POURS and CONTRES, by an unheated mind.

The lady attended as if she expected I should go on.

Consider then, Madame, continued I, laying my hand upon hers:-

That grave people hate love for the name's sake; -

That selfish people hate it for their own; -

Hypocrites for heaven's; -

And that all of us, both old and young, being ten times worsefrightened than hurt by the very REPORT, - what a want of knowledgein this branch of commence a man betrays, whoever lets the wordcome out of his lips, till an hour or two, at least, after the timethat his silence upon it becomes tormenting. A course of small,quiet attentions, not so pointed as to alarm, - nor so vague as tobe misunderstood - with now and then a look of kindness, and littleor nothing said upon it, - leaves nature for your mistress, and shefashions it to her mind. -

Then I solemnly declare, said the lady, blushing, you have beenmaking love to me all this while.

THE REMISE. CALAIS.

MONSIEUR DESSEIN came back to let us out of the chaise, andacquaint the lady, the count de L-, her brother, was just arrivedat the hotel. Though I had infinite good will for the lady, Icannot say that I rejoiced in my heart at the event - and could nothelp telling her so; - for it is fatal to a proposal, Madame, saidI, that I was going to make to you -

- You need not tell me what the proposal was, said she, laying herhand upon both mine, as she interrupted me. - A man my good Sir,has seldom an offer of kindness to make to a woman, but she has apresentiment of it some moments before. -

Nature arms her with it, said I, for immediate preservation. - ButI think, said she, looking in my face, I had no evil to apprehend,-and, to deal frankly with you, had determined to accept it. - If Ihad - (she stopped a moment) - I believe your good will would havedrawn a story from me, which would have made pity the onlydangerous thing in the journey.

In saying this, she suffered me to kiss her hand twice, and with alook of sensibility mixed with concern, she got out of the chaise,- and bid adieu.

IN THE STREET. CALAIS.

I NEVER finished a twelve guinea bargain so expeditiously in mylife: my time seemed heavy, upon the loss of the lady, and knowingevery moment of it would be as two, till I put myself into motion,- I ordered post horses directly, and walked towards the hotel.

Lord! said I, hearing the town clock strike four, and recollectingthat I had been little more than a single hour in Calais, -

- What a large volume of adventures may be grasped within thislittle span of life by him who interests his heart in every thing,and who, having eyes to see what time and chance are perpetuallyholding out to him as he journeyeth on his way, misses nothing hecan FAIRLY lay his hands on!

- If this won't turn out something, - another will; - no matter, -'tis an assay upon human nature - I get my labour for my pains, -'tis enough; - the pleasure of the experiment has kept my sensesand the best part of my blood awake, and laid the gross to sleep.

I pity the man who can travel from Dan to Beersheba, and cry, 'Tisall barren; - and so it is: and so is all the world to him who willnot cultivate the fruits it offers. I declare, said I, clapping myhands cheerily together, that were I in a desert, I would find outwherewith in it to call forth my affections: - if I could not dobetter, I would fasten them upon some sweet myrtle, or seek somemelancholy cypress to connect myself to; - I would court theirshade, and greet them kindly for their protection. - I would cut myname upon them, and swear they were the loveliest trees throughoutthe desert: if their leaves wither'd, I would teach myself tomourn; and, when they rejoiced, I would rejoice along with them.

The learned Smelfungus travelled from Boulogne to Paris, - fromParis to Rome, - and so on; - but he set out with the spleen andjaundice, and every object he pass'd by was discoloured ordistorted. - He wrote an account of them, but 'twas nothing but theaccount of his miserable feelings.

I met Smelfungus in the grand portico of the Pantheon: - he wasjust coming out of it. - 'TIS NOTHING BUT A HUGE COCKPIT, said he:- I wish you had said nothing worse of the Venus of Medicis,replied I; - for in passing through Florence, I had heard he hadfallen foul upon the goddess, and used her worse than a commonstrumpet, without the least provocation in nature.

I popp'd upon Smelfungus again at Turin, in his return home; and asad tale of sorrowful adventures had he to tell, "wherein he spokeof moving accidents by flood and field, and of the cannibals thateach other eat: the Anthropophagi:" - he had been flayed alive, andbedevil'd, and used worse than St. Bartholomew, at every stage hehad come at. -

- I'll tell it, cried Smelfungus, to the world. You had bettertell it, said I, to your physician.

Mundungus, with an immense fortune, made the whole tour; going onfrom Rome to Naples, - from Naples to Venice, - from Venice toVienna, - to Dresden, to Berlin, without one generous connection orpleasurable anecdote to tell of; but he had travell'd straight on,looking neither to his right hand nor his left, lest Love or Pityshould seduce him out of his road.

Peace be to them! if it is to be found; but heaven itself, were itpossible to get there with such tempers, would want objects to giveit; every gentle spirit would come flying upon the wings of Love tohail their arrival. - Nothing would the souls of Smelfungus andMundungus hear of, but fresh anthems of joy, fresh raptures oflove, and fresh congratulations of their common felicity. - Iheartily pity them; they have brought up no faculties for thiswork; and, were the happiest mansion in heaven to be allotted toSmelfungus and Mundungus, they would be so far from being happy,that the souls of Smelfungus and Mundungus would do penance thereto all eternity!

MONTREUIL.

I HAD once lost my portmanteau from behind my chaise, and twice gotout in the rain, and one of the times up to the knees in dirt, tohelp the postilion to tie it on, without being able to find outwhat was wanting. - Nor was it till I got to Montreuil, upon thelandlord's asking me if I wanted not a servant, that it occurred tome, that that was the very thing.

A servant! That I do most sadly, quoth I. - Because, Monsieur,said the landlord, there is a clever young fellow, who would bevery proud of the honour to serve an Englishman. - But why anEnglish one, more than any other? - They are so generous, said thelandlord. - I'll be shot if this is not a livre out of my pocket,quoth I to myself, this very night. - But they have wherewithal tobe so, Monsieur, added he. - Set down one livre more for that,quoth I. - It was but last night, said the landlord, QU'UN MILORDANGLOIS PRESENTOIT UN ECU E LA FILLE DE CHAMBRE. - TANT PIS POURMADEMOISELLE JANATONE, said I.

Now Janatone, being the landlord's daughter, and the landlordsupposing I was young in French, took the liberty to inform me, Ishould not have said TANT PIS - but, TANT MIEUX. TANT MIEUX,TOUJOURS, MONSIEUR, said he, when there is any thing to be got -TANT PIS, when there is nothing. It comes to the same thing, saidI. PARDONNEZ-MOI, said the landlord.

I cannot take a fitter opportunity to observe, once for all, thatTANT PIS and TANT MIEUX, being two of the great hinges in Frenchconversation, a stranger would do well to set himself right in theuse of them, before he gets to Paris.

A prompt French marquis at our ambassador's table demanded of Mr.H-, if he was H- the poet? No, said Mr. H-, mildly. - TANT PIS,replied the marquis.

It is H- the historian, said another, - TANT MIEUX, said themarquis. And Mr. H-, who is a man of an excellent heart, return'dthanks for both.

When the landlord had set me right in this matter, he called in LaFleur, which was the name of the young man he had spoke of, -saying only first, That as for his talents he would presume to saynothing, - Monsieur was the best judge what would suit him; but forthe fidelity of La Fleur he would stand responsible in all he wasworth.

The landlord deliver'd this in a manner which instantly set my mindto the business I was upon; - and La Fleur, who stood waitingwithout, in that breathless expectation which every son of natureof us have felt in our turns, came in.

MONTREUIL.

I AM apt to be taken with all kinds of people at first sight; butnever more so than when a poor devil comes to offer his service toso poor a devil as myself; and as I know this weakness, I alwayssuffer my judgment to draw back something on that very account, -and this more or less, according to the mood I am in, and the case;- and I may add, the gender too, of the person I am to govern.

When La Fleur entered the room, after every discount I could makefor my soul, the genuine look and air of the fellow determined thematter at once in his favour; so I hired him first, - and thenbegan to enquire what he could do: But I shall find out histalents, quoth I, as I want them, - besides, a Frenchman can doevery thing.

Now poor La Fleur could do nothing in the world but beat a drum,and play a march or two upon the fife. I was determined to makehis talents do; and can't say my weakness was ever so insulted bymy wisdom as in the attempt.

La Fleur had set out early in life, as gallantly as most Frenchmendo, with SERVING for a few years; at the end of which, havingsatisfied the sentiment, and found, moreover, That the honour ofbeating a drum was likely to be its own reward, as it open'd nofurther track of glory to him, - he retired E SES TERRES, and livedCOMME IL PLAISOIT E DIEU; - that is to say, upon nothing.

- And so, quoth Wisdom, you have hired a drummer to attend you inthis tour of yours through France and Italy! - Psha! said I, and donot one half of our gentry go with a humdrum COMPAGNON DU VOYAGEthe same round, and have the piper and the devil and all to paybesides? When man can extricate himself with an EQUIVOQUE in suchan unequal match, - he is not ill off. - But you can do somethingelse, La Fleur? said I. - O QU'OUI! he could make spatterdashes,and play a little upon the fiddle. - Bravo! said Wisdom. - Why, Iplay a bass myself, said I; - we shall do very well. You canshave, and dress a wig a little, La Fleur? - He had all thedispositions in the world. - It is enough for heaven! said I,interrupting him, - and ought to be enough for me. - So, suppercoming in, and having a frisky English spaniel on one side of mychair, and a French valet, with as much hilarity in his countenanceas ever Nature painted in one, on the other, - I was satisfied tomy heart's content with my empire; and if monarchs knew what theywould be at, they might be as satisfied as I was.

MONTREUIL.

AS La Fleur went the whole tour of France and Italy with me, andwill be often upon the stage, I must interest the reader a littlefurther in his behalf, by saying, that I had never less reason torepent of the impulses which generally do determine me, than inregard to this fellow; - he was a faithful, affectionate, simplesoul as ever trudged after the heels of a philosopher; and,notwithstanding his talents of drum beating and spatterdash-making,which, though very good in themselves, happened to be of no greatservice to me, yet was I hourly recompensed by the festivity of histemper; - it supplied all defects: - I had a constant resource inhis looks in all difficulties and distresses of my own - I wasgoing to have added of his too; but La Fleur was out of the reachof every thing; for, whether 'twas hunger or thirst, or cold ornakedness, or watchings, or whatever stripes of ill luck La Fleurmet with in our journeyings, there was no index in his physiognomyto point them out by, - he was eternally the same; so that if I ama piece of a philosopher, which Satan now and then puts it into myhead I am, - it always mortifies the pride of the conceit, byreflecting how much I owe to the complexional philosophy of thispoor fellow, for shaming me into one of a better kind. With allthis, La Fleur had a small cast of the coxcomb, - but he seemed atfirst sight to be more a coxcomb of nature than of art; and, beforeI had been three days in Paris with him, - he seemed to be nocoxcomb at all.

MONTREUIL.

THE next morning, La Fleur entering upon his employment, Idelivered to him the key of my portmanteau, with an inventory of myhalf a dozen shirts and silk pair of breeches, and bid him fastenall upon the chaise, - get the horses put to, - and desire thelandlord to come in with his bill.

C'EST UN GARCON DE BONNE FORTUNE, said the landlord, pointingthrough the window to half a dozen wenches who had got round aboutLa Fleur, and were most kindly taking their leave of him, as thepostilion was leading out the horses. La Fleur kissed all theirhands round and round again, and thrice he wiped his eyes, andthrice he promised he would bring them all pardons from Rome.

- The young fellow, said the landlord, is beloved by all the town,and there is scarce a corner in Montreuil where the want of himwill not be felt: he has but one misfortune in the world, continuedhe, "he is always in love." - I am heartily glad of it, said I, -'twill save me the trouble every night of putting my breeches undermy head. In saying this, I was making not so much La Fleur's elogeas my own, having been in love with one princess or another almostall my life, and I hope I shall go on so till I die, being firmlypersuaded, that if ever I do a mean action, it must be in someinterval betwixt one passion and another: whilst this interregnumlasts, I always perceive my heart locked up, - I can scarce find init to give Misery a sixpence; and therefore I always get out of itas fast as I can - and the moment I am rekindled, I am allgenerosity and good-will again; and would do anything in the world,either for or with any one, if they will but satisfy me there is nosin in it.

- THE town of Abdera, notwithstanding Democritus lived there,trying all the powers of irony and laughter to reclaim it, was thevilest and most profligate town in all Thrace. What for poisons,conspiracies, and assassinations, - libels, pasquinades, andtumults, there was no going there by day - 'twas worse by night.

Now, when things were at the worst, it came to pass that theAndromeda of Euripides being represented at Abdera, the wholeorchestra was delighted with it: but of all the passages whichdelighted them, nothing operated more upon their imaginations thanthe tender strokes of nature which the poet had wrought up in thatpathetic speech of Perseus, O CUPID, PRINCE OF GODS AND MEN! &c.Every man almost spoke pure iambics the next day, and talked ofnothing but Perseus his pathetic address, - "O CUPID! PRINCE OFGODS AND MEN!" - in every street of Abdera, in every house, "OCupid! Cupid!" - in every mouth, like the natural notes of somesweet melody which drop from it, whether it will or no, - nothingbut "Cupid! Cupid! prince of gods and men!" - The fire caught - andthe whole city, like the heart of one man, open'd itself to Love.

No pharmacopolist could sell one grain of hellebore, - not a singlearmourer had a heart to forge one instrument of death; - Friendshipand Virtue met together, and kiss'd each other in the street; thegolden age returned, and hung over the town of Abdera - everyAbderite took his eaten pipe, and every Abderitish woman left herpurple web, and chastely sat her down and listened to the song.

'Twas only in the power, says the Fragment, of the God whose empireextendeth from heaven to earth, and even to the depths of the sea,to have done this.

MONTREUIL.

WHEN all is ready, and every article is disputed and paid for inthe inn, unless you are a little sour'd by the adventure, there isalways a matter to compound at the door, before you can get intoyour chaise; and that is with the sons and daughters of poverty,who surround you. Let no man say, "Let them go to the devil!" -'tis a cruel journey to send a few miserables, and they have hadsufferings enow without it: I always think it better to take a fewsous out in my hand; and I would counsel every gentle traveller todo so likewise: he need not be so exact in setting down his motivesfor giving them; - They will be registered elsewhere.

For my own part, there is no man gives so little as I do; for few,that I know, have so little to give; but as this was the firstpublic act of my charity in France, I took the more notice of it.

A well-a-way! said I, - I have but eight sous in the world, showingthem in my hand, and there are eight poor men and eight poor womenfor 'em.

A poor tatter'd soul, without a shirt on, instantly withdrew hisclaim, by retiring two steps out of the circle, and making adisqualifying bow on his part. Had the whole PARTERRE cried out,PLACE AUX DAMES, with one voice, it would not have conveyed thesentiment of a deference for the sex with half the effect.

Just Heaven! for what wise reasons hast thou ordered it, thatbeggary and urbanity, which are at such variance in othercountries, should find a way to be at unity in this?

- I insisted upon presenting him with a single sous, merely for hisPOLITESSE.

A poor little dwarfish brisk fellow, who stood over against me inthe circle, putting something first under his arm, which had oncebeen a hat, took his snuff-box out of his pocket, and generouslyoffer'd a pinch on both sides of him: it was a gift of consequence,and modestly declined. - The poor little fellow pressed it uponthem with a nod of welcomeness. - PRENEZ EN - PRENEZ, said he,looking another way; so they each took a pinch. - Pity thy boxshould ever want one! said I to myself; so I put a couple of sousinto it - taking a small pinch out of his box, to enhance theirvalue, as I did it. He felt the weight of the second obligationmore than of the first, - 'twas doing him an honour, - the otherwas only doing him a charity; - and he made me a bow down to theground for it.

- Here! said I to an old soldier with one hand, who had beencampaigned and worn out to death in the service - here's a coupleof sous for thee. - VIVE LE ROI! said the old soldier.

I had then but three sous left: so I gave one, simply, POUR L'AMOURDE DIEU, which was the footing on which it was begg'd. - The poorwoman had a dislocated hip; so it could not be well upon any othermotive.

MILORD ANGLOIS - the very sound was worth the money; - so I gave MYLAST SOUS FOR IT. But in the eagerness of giving, I had overlookeda PAUVRE HONTEUX, who had had no one to ask a sous for him, andwho, I believe, would have perished, ere he could have ask'd onefor himself: he stood by the chaise a little without the circle,and wiped a tear from a face which I thought had seen better days.- Good God! said I - and I have not one single sous left to givehim. - But you have a thousand! cried all the powers of nature,stirring within me; - so I gave him - no matter what - I am ashamedto say HOW MUCH now, - and was ashamed to think how little, then:so, if the reader can form any conjecture of my disposition, asthese two fixed points are given him, he may judge within a livreor two what was the precise sum.

I could afford nothing for the rest, but DIEU VOUS BENISSE!

- ET LE BON DIEU VOUS BENISSE ENCORE, said the old soldier, thedwarf, &c. The PAUVRE HONTEUX could say nothing; - he pull'd out alittle handkerchief, and wiped his face as he turned away - and Ithought he thanked me more than them all.

THE BIDET.

HAVING settled all these little matters, I got into my post-chaisewith more ease than ever I got into a post-chaise in my life; andLa Fleur having got one large jack-boot on the far side of a littleBIDET, and another on this (for I count nothing of his legs) - hecanter'd away before me as happy and as perpendicular as a prince.- But what is happiness! what is grandeur in this painted scene oflife! A dead ass, before we had got a league, put a sudden stop toLa Fleur's career; - his bidet would not pass by it, - a contentionarose betwixt them, and the poor fellow was kick'd out of his jack-boots the very first kick.

La Fleur bore his fall like a French Christian, saying neither morenor less upon it, than DIABLE! So presently got up, and came tothe charge again astride his bidet, beating him up to it as hewould have beat his drum.

The bidet flew from one side of the road to the other, then backagain, - then this way, then that way, and in short, every way butby the dead ass: - La Fleur insisted upon the thing - and the bidetthrew him.

What's the matter, La Fleur, said I, with this bidet of thine?Monsieur, said he, C'EST UN CHEVAL LE PLUS OPINIATRE DU MONDE. -Nay, if he is a conceited beast, he must go his own way, replied I.So La Fleur got off him, and giving him a good sound lash, thebidet took me at my word, and away he scampered back to Montreuil.- PESTE! said La Fleur.

It is not MAL-E-PROPOS to take notice here, that though La Fleuravailed himself but of two different terms of exclamation in thisencounter, - namely, DIABLE! and PESTE! that there are,nevertheless, three in the French language: like the positive,comparative, and superlative, one or the other of which serves forevery unexpected throw of the dice in life.

LE DIABLE! which is the first, and positive degree, is generallyused upon ordinary emotions of the mind, where small things onlyfall out contrary to your expectations; such as - the throwing oncedoublets - La Fleur's being kick'd off his horse, and so forth. -Cuckoldom, for the same reason, is always - LE DIABLE!

But, in cases where the cast has something provoking in it, as inthat of the bidet's running away after, and leaving La Fleuraground in jack-boots, - 'tis the second degree.

'Tis then PESTE!

And for the third -

- But here my heart is wrung with pity and fellow feeling, when Ireflect what miseries must have been their lot, and how bitterly sorefined a people must have smarted, to have forced them upon theuse of it. -

- But as these were not to be had in France, I resolved to takeevery evil just as it befell me, without any exclamation at all.

La Fleur, who had made no such covenant with himself, followed thebidet with his eyes till it was got out of sight, - and then, youmay imagine, if you please, with what word he closed the wholeaffair.

As there was no hunting down a frightened horse in jack-boots,there remained no alternative but taking La Fleur either behind thechaise, or into it. -

I preferred the latter, and in half an hour we got to the post-house at Nampont.

NAMPONT. THE DEAD ASS.

- AND this, said he, putting the remains of a crust into his wallet- and this should have been thy portion, said he, hadst thou beenalive to have shared it with me. - I thought, by the accent, it hadbeen an apostrophe to his child; but 'twas to his ass, and to thevery ass we had seen dead in the road, which had occasioned LaFleur's misadventure. The man seemed to lament it much; and itinstantly brought into my mind Sancho's lamentation for his; but hedid it with more true touches of nature.

The mourner was sitting upon a stone bench at the door, with theass's pannel and its bridle on one side, which he took up from timeto time, - then laid them down, - look'd at them, and shook hishead. He then took his crust of bread out of his wallet again, asif to eat it; held it some time in his hand, - then laid it uponthe bit of his ass's bridle, - looked wistfully at the littlearrangement he had made - and then gave a sigh.

The simplicity of his grief drew numbers about him, and La Fleuramongst the rest, whilst the horses were getting ready; as Icontinued sitting in the post-chaise, I could see and hear overtheir heads.

- He said he had come last from Spain, where he had been from thefurthest borders of Franconia; and had got so far on his returnhome, when his ass died. Every one seemed desirous to know whatbusiness could have taken so old and poor a man so far a journeyfrom his own home.

It had pleased heaven, he said, to bless him with three sons, thefinest lads in Germany; but having in one week lost two of theeldest of them by the small-pox, and the youngest falling ill ofthe same distemper, he was afraid of being bereft of them all; andmade a vow, if heaven would not take him from him also, he would goin gratitude to St. Iago in Spain.

When the mourner got thus far on his story, he stopp'd to payNature her tribute, - and wept bitterly.

He said, heaven had accepted the conditions; and that he had setout from his cottage with this poor creature, who had been apatient partner of his journey; - that it had eaten the same breadwith him all the way, and was unto him as a friend.

Every body who stood about, heard the poor fellow with concern. -La Fleur offered him money. - The mourner said he did not want it;- it was not the value of the ass - but the loss of him. - The ass,he said, he was assured, loved him; - and upon this told them along story of a mischance upon their passage over the Pyreneanmountains, which had separated them from each other three days;during which time the ass had sought him as much as he had soughtthe ass, and that they had scarce either eaten or drank till theymet.

Thou hast one comfort, friend, said I, at least, in the loss of thypoor beast; I'm sure thou hast been a merciful master to him. -Alas! said the mourner, I thought so when he was alive; - but nowthat he is dead, I think otherwise. - I fear the weight of myselfand my afflictions together have been too much for him, - they haveshortened the poor creature's days, and I fear I have them toanswer for. - Shame on the world! said I to myself. - Did we butlove each other as this poor soul loved his ass - 'twould besomething. -

NAMPONT. THE POSTILION.

THE concern which the poor fellow's story threw me into requiredsome attention; the postilion paid not the least to it, but set offupon the PAVE in a full gallop.

The thirstiest soul in the most sandy desert of Arabia could nothave wished more for a cup of cold water, than mine did for graveand quiet movements; and I should have had an high opinion of thepostilion had he but stolen off with me in something like a pensivepace. - On the contrary, as the mourner finished his lamentation,the fellow gave an unfeeling lash to each of his beasts, and setoff clattering like a thousand devils.

I called to him as loud as I could, for heaven's sake to go slower:- and the louder I called, the more unmercifully he galloped. - Thedeuce take him and his galloping too - said I, - he'll go ontearing my nerves to pieces till he has worked me into a foolishpassion, and then he'll go slow that I may enjoy the sweets of it.

The postilion managed the point to a miracle: by the time he hadgot to the foot of a steep hill, about half a league from Nampont,- he had put me out of temper with him, - and then with myself, forbeing so.

My case then required a different treatment; and a good rattlinggallop would have been of real service to me. -

- Then, prithee, get on - get on, my good lad, said I.

The postilion pointed to the hill. - I then tried to return back tothe story of the poor German and his ass - but I had broke theclue, - and could no more get into it again, than the postilioncould into a trot.

- The deuce go, said I, with it all! Here am I sitting as candidlydisposed to make the best of the worst, as ever wight was, and allruns counter.

There is one sweet lenitive at least for evils, which Nature holdsout to us: so I took it kindly at her hands, and fell asleep; andthe first word which roused me was AMIENS.

- Bless me! said I, rubbing my eyes, - this is the very town wheremy poor lady is to come.

AMIENS.

THE words were scarce out of my mouth when the Count de L-'s post-chaise, with his sister in it, drove hastily by: she had just timeto make me a bow of recognition, - and of that particular kind ofit, which told me she had not yet done with me. She was as good asher look; for, before I had quite finished my supper, her brother'sservant came into the room with a billet, in which she said she hadtaken the liberty to charge me with a letter, which I was topresent myself to Madame R- the first morning I had nothing to doat Paris. There was only added, she was sorry, but from whatPENCHANT she had not considered, that she had been preventedtelling me her story, - that she still owed it to me; and if myroute should ever lay through Brussels, and I had not by thenforgot the name of Madame de L-, - that Madame de L- would be gladto discharge her obligation.

Then I will meet thee, said I, fair spirit! at Brussels; - 'tisonly returning from Italy through Germany to Holland, by the routeof Flanders, home; - 'twill scarce be ten posts out of my way; but,were it ten thousand! with what a moral delight will it crown myjourney, in sharing in the sickening incidents of a tale of miserytold to me by such a sufferer? To see her weep! and, though Icannot dry up the fountain of her tears, what an exquisitesensation is there still left, in wiping them away from off thecheeks of the first and fairest of women, as I'm sitting with myhandkerchief in my hand in silence the whole night beside her?

There was nothing wrong in the sentiment; and yet I instantlyreproached my heart with it in the bitterest and most reprobate ofexpressions.

It had ever, as I told the reader, been one of the singularblessings of my life, to be almost every hour of it miserably inlove with some one; and my last flame happening to be blown out bya whiff of jealousy on the sudden turn of a corner, I had lightedit up afresh at the pure taper of Eliza but about three monthsbefore, - swearing, as I did it, that it should last me through thewhole journey. - Why should I dissemble the matter? I had sworn toher eternal fidelity; - she had a right to my whole heart: - todivide my affections was to lessen them; - to expose them was torisk them: where there is risk there may be loss: - and what wiltthou have, Yorick, to answer to a heart so full of trust andconfidence - so good, so gentle, and unreproaching!

- I will not go to Brussels, replied I, interrupting myself. - Butmy imagination went on, - I recalled her looks at that crisis ofour separation, when neither of us had power to say adieu! Ilook'd at the picture she had tied in a black riband about my neck,- and blush'd as I look'd at it. - I would have given the world tohave kiss'd it, - but was ashamed. - And shall this tender flower,said I, pressing it between my hands, - shall it be smitten to itsvery root, - and smitten, Yorick! by thee, who hast promised toshelter it in thy breast?

Eternal Fountain of Happiness! said I, kneeling down upon theground, - be thou my witness - and every pure spirit which tastesit, be my witness also, That I would not travel to Brussels, unlessEliza went along with me, did the road lead me towards heaven!

In transports of this kind, the heart, in spite of theunderstanding, will always say too much.

THE LETTER. AMIENS.

FORTUNE had not smiled upon La Fleur; for he had been unsuccessfulin his feats of chivalry, - and not one thing had offered tosignalise his zeal for my service from the time that he had enteredinto it, which was almost four-and-twenty hours. The poor soulburn'd with impatience; and the Count de L-'s servant coming withthe letter, being the first practicable occasion which offer'd, LaFleur had laid hold of it; and, in order to do honour to hismaster, had taken him into a back parlour in the auberge, andtreated him with a cup or two of the best wine in Picardy; and theCount de L-'s servant, in return, and not to be behindhand inpoliteness with La Fleur, had taken him back with him to theCount's hotel. La Fleur's PREVENANCY (for there was a passport inhis very looks) soon set every servant in the kitchen at ease withhim; and as a Frenchman, whatever be his talents, has no sort ofprudery in showing them, La Fleur, in less than five minutes, hadpulled out his fife, and leading off the dance himself with thefirst note, set the FILLE DE CHAMBRE, the MAITRE D'HOTEL, the cook,the scullion, and all the house-hold, dogs and cats, besides an oldmonkey, a dancing: I suppose there never was a merrier kitchensince the flood.

Madame de L-, in passing from her brother's apartments to her own,hearing so much jollity below stairs, rung up her FILLE DE CHAMBREto ask about it; and, hearing it was the English gentleman'sservant, who had set the whole house merry with his pipe, sheordered him up.

As the poor fellow could not present himself empty, he had loadedhimself in going up stairs with a thousand compliments to Madame deL-, on the part of his master, - added a long apocrypha ofinquiries after Madame de L-'s health, - told her, that Monsieurhis master was AU DESESPOIRE for her re-establishment from thefatigues of her journey, - and, to close all, that Monsieur hadreceived the letter which Madame had done him the honour - And hehas done me the honour, said Madame de L-, interrupting La Fleur,to send a billet in return.

Madame de L- had said this with such a tone of reliance upon thefact, that La Fleur had not power to disappoint her expectations; -he trembled for my honour, - and possibly might not altogether beunconcerned for his own, as a man capable of being attached to amaster who could be wanting EN EGARDS VIS E VIS D'UNE FEMME! sothat when Madame de L- asked La Fleur if he had brought a letter, -O QU'OUI, said La Fleur: so laying down his hat upon the ground,and taking hold of the flap of his right side pocket with his lefthand, he began to search for the letter with his right; - thencontrariwise. - DIABLE! then sought every pocket - pocket bypocket, round, not forgetting his fob: - PESTE! - then La Fleuremptied them upon the floor, - pulled out a dirty cravat, - ahandkerchief, - a comb, - a whip lash, - a nightcap, - then gave apeep into his hat, - QUELLE ETOURDERIE! He had left the letterupon the table in the auberge; - he would run for it, and be backwith it in three minutes.

I had just finished my supper when La Fleur came in to give me anaccount of his adventure: he told the whole story simply as it was:and only added that if Monsieur had forgot (PAR HAZARD) to answerMadame's letter, the arrangement gave him an opportunity to recoverthe FAUX PAS; - and if not, that things were only as they were.

Now I was not altogether sure of my ETIQUETTE, whether I ought tohave wrote or no; - but if I had, - a devil himself could not havebeen angry: 'twas but the officious zeal of a well meaning creaturefor my honour; and, however he might have mistook the road, - orembarrassed me in so doing, - his heart was in no fault, - I wasunder no necessity to write; - and, what weighed more than all, -he did not look as if he had done amiss.

- 'Tis all very well, La Fleur, said I. - 'Twas sufficient. LaFleur flew out of the room like lightning, and returned with pen,ink, and paper, in his hand; and, coming up to the table, laid themclose before me, with such a delight in his countenance, that Icould not help taking up the pen.

I began and began again; and, though I had nothing to say, and thatnothing might have been expressed in half a dozen lines, I madehalf a dozen different beginnings, and could no way please myself.

In short, I was in no mood to write.

La Fleur stepp'd out and brought a little water in a glass todilute my ink, - then fetch'd sand and seal-wax. - It was all one;I wrote, and blotted, and tore off, and burnt, and wrote again. -LE DIABLE L'EMPORTE! said I, half to myself, - I cannot write thisself-same letter, throwing the pen down despairingly as I said it.

As soon as I had cast down my pen, La Fleur advanced with the mostrespectful carriage up to the table, and making a thousandapologies for the liberty he was going to take, told me he had aletter in his pocket wrote by a drummer in his regiment to acorporal's wife, which he durst say would suit the occasion.

I had a mind to let the poor fellow have his humour. - Thenprithee, said I, let me see it.

La Fleur instantly pulled out a little dirty pocket book cramm'dfull of small letters and billet-doux in a sad condition, andlaying it upon the table, and then untying the string which heldthem all together, run them over, one by one, till he came to theletter in question, - LA VOILA! said he, clapping his hands: so,unfolding it first, he laid it open before me, and retired threesteps from the table whilst I read it.

It was but changing the Corporal into the Count, - and sayingnothing about mounting guard on Wednesday, - and the letter wasneither right nor wrong: - so, to gratify the poor fellow, whostood trembling for my honour, his own, and the honour of hisletter, - I took the cream gently off it, and whipping it up in myown way, I seal'd it up and sent him with it to Madame de L-; - andthe next morning we pursued our journey to Paris.

PARIS.

WHEN a man can contest the point by dint of equipage, and carry allon floundering before him with half a dozen of lackies and a coupleof cooks - 'tis very well in such a place as Paris, - he may drivein at which end of a street he will.

A poor prince who is weak in cavalry, and whose whole infantry doesnot exceed a single man, had best quit the field, and signalizehimself in the cabinet, if he can get up into it; - I say UP INTOIT - for there is no descending perpendicular amongst 'em with a"ME VOICI! MES ENFANS" - here I am - whatever many may think.

I own my first sensations, as soon as I was left solitary and alonein my own chamber in the hotel, were far from being so flatteringas I had prefigured them. I walked up gravely to the window in mydusty black coat, and looking through the glass saw all the worldin yellow, blue, and green, running at the ring of pleasure. - Theold with broken lances, and in helmets which had lost theirvizards; - the young in armour bright which shone like gold,beplumed with each gay feather of the east, - all, - all, tiltingat it like fascinated knights in tournaments of yore for fame andlove. -

Alas, poor Yorick! cried I, what art thou doing here? On the veryfirst onset of all this glittering clatter thou art reduced to anatom; - seek, - seek some winding alley, with a tourniquet at theend of it, where chariot never rolled or flambeau shot its rays; -there thou mayest solace thy soul in converse sweet with some kindgrisette of a barber's wife, and get into such coteries! -

- May I perish! if I do, said I, pulling out the letter which I hadto present to Madame de R- - I'll wait upon this lady, the veryfirst thing I do. So I called La Fleur to go seek me a barberdirectly, - and come back and brush my coat.

THE WIG. PARIS.

WHEN the barber came, he absolutely refused to have any thing to dowith my wig: 'twas either above or below his art: I had nothing todo but to take one ready made of his own recommendation.

- But I fear, friend! said I, this buckle won't stand. - You mayemerge it, replied he, into the ocean, and it will stand. -

What a great scale is every thing upon in this city thought I. -The utmost stretch of an English periwig-maker's ideas could havegone no further than to have "dipped it into a pail of water." -What difference! 'tis like Time to Eternity!

I confess I do hate all cold conceptions, as I do the puny ideaswhich engender them; and am generally so struck with the greatworks of nature, that for my own part, if I could help it, I neverwould make a comparison less than a mountain at least. All thatcan be said against the French sublime, in this instance of it, isthis: - That the grandeur is MORE in the WORD, and LESS in theTHING. No doubt, the ocean fills the mind with vast ideas; butParis being so far inland, it was not likely I should run post ahundred miles out of it, to try the experiment; - the Parisianbarber meant nothing. -

The pail of water standing beside the great deep, makes, certainly,but a sorry figure in speech; - but, 'twill be said, - it has oneadvantage - 'tis in the next room, and the truth of the buckle maybe tried in it, without more ado, in a single moment.

In honest truth, and upon a more candid revision of the matter, THEFRENCH EXPRESSION PROFESSES MORE THAN IT PERFORMS.

I think I can see the precise and distinguishing marks of nationalcharacters more in these nonsensical MINUTIAE than in the mostimportant matters of state; where great men of all nations talk andstalk so much alike, that I would not give ninepence to chooseamongst them.

I was so long in getting from under my barber's hands, that it wastoo late to think of going with my letter to Madame R- that night:but when a man is once dressed at all points for going out, hisreflections turn to little account; so taking down the name of theHotel de Modene, where I lodged, I walked forth without anydetermination where to go; - I shall consider of that, said I, as Iwalk along.

THE PULSE. PARIS.

HAIL, ye small sweet courtesies of life, for smooth do ye make theroad of it! like grace and beauty, which beget inclinations to loveat first sight: 'tis ye who open this door and let the stranger in.

- Pray, Madame, said I, have the goodness to tell me which way Imust turn to go to the Opera Comique? - Most willingly, Monsieur,said she, laying aside her work. -

I had given a cast with my eye into half a dozen shops, as I camealong, in search of a face not likely to be disordered by such aninterruption: till at last, this, hitting my fancy, I had walkedin.

She was working a pair of ruffles, as she sat in a low chair, onthe far side of the shop, facing the door.

- TRES VOLONTIERS, most willingly, said she, laying her work downupon a chair next her, and rising up from the low chair she wassitting in, with so cheerful a movement, and so cheerful a look,that had I been laying out fifty louis d'ors with her, I shouldhave said - "This woman is grateful."

You must turn, Monsieur, said she, going with me to the door of theshop, and pointing the way down the street I was to take, - youmust turn first to your left hand, - MAIS PRENEZ GARDE -there aretwo turns; and be so good as to take the second - then go down alittle way and you'll see a church: and, when you are past it, giveyourself the trouble to turn directly to the right, and that willlead you to the foot of the Pont Neuf, which you must cross - andthere any one will do himself the pleasure to show you. -

She repeated her instructions three times over to me, with the samegoodnatur'd patience the third time as the first; - and if TONESAND MANNERS have a meaning, which certainly they have, unless tohearts which shut them out, - she seemed really interested that Ishould not lose myself.

I will not suppose it was the woman's beauty, notwithstanding shewas the handsomest grisette, I think, I ever saw, which had much todo with the sense I had of her courtesy; only I remember, when Itold her how much I was obliged to her, that I looked very full inher eyes, - and that I repeated my thanks as often as she had doneher instructions.

I had not got ten paces from the door, before I found I had forgotevery tittle of what she had said; - so looking back, and seeingher still standing in the door of the shop, as if to look whether Iwent right or not, - I returned back to ask her, whether the firstturn was to my right or left, - for that I had absolutely forgot. -Is it possible! said she, half laughing. 'Tis very possible,replied I, when a man is thinking more of a woman than of her goodadvice.

As this was the real truth - she took it, as every woman takes amatter of right, with a slight curtsey.

- ATTENDEZ! said she, laying her hand upon my arm to detain me,whilst she called a lad out of the back shop to get ready a parcelof gloves. I am just going to send him, said she, with a packetinto that quarter, and if you will have the complaisance to stepin, it will be ready in a moment, and he shall attend you to theplace. - So I walk'd in with her to the far side of the shop: andtaking up the ruffle in my hand which she laid upon the chair, asif I had a mind to sit, she sat down herself in her low chair, andI instantly sat myself down beside her.

- He will be ready, Monsieur, said she, in a moment. - And in thatmoment, replied I, most willingly would I say something very civilto you for all these courtesies. Any one may do a casual act ofgood nature, but a continuation of them shows it is a part of thetemperature; and certainly, added I, if it is the same blood whichcomes from the heart which descends to the extremes (touching herwrist) I am sure you must have one of the best pulses of any womanin the world. - Feel it, said she, holding out her arm. So layingdown my hat, I took hold of her fingers in one hand, and appliedthe two forefingers of my other to the artery. -

- Would to heaven! my dear Eugenius, thou hadst passed by, andbeheld me sitting in my black coat, and in my lack-a-day-sicalmanner, counting the throbs of it, one by one, with as much truedevotion as if I had been watching the critical ebb or flow of herfever. - How wouldst thou have laugh'd and moralized upon my newprofession! - and thou shouldst have laugh'd and moralized on. -Trust me, my dear Eugenius, I should have said, "There are worseoccupations in this world THAN FEELING A WOMAN'S PULSE." - But agrisette's! thou wouldst have said, - and in an open shop! Yorick-

- So much the better: for when my views are direct, Eugenius, Icare not if all the world saw me feel it.

THE HUSBAND. PARIS.

I HAD counted twenty pulsations, and was going on fast towards thefortieth, when her husband, coming unexpected from a back parlourinto the shop, put me a little out of my reckoning. - 'Twas nobodybut her husband, she said; - so I began a fresh score. - Monsieuris so good, quoth she, as he pass'd by us, as to give himself thetrouble of feeling my pulse. - The husband took off his hat, andmaking me a bow, said, I did him too much honour - and having saidthat, he put on his hat and walk'd out.

Good God! said I to myself, as he went out, - and can this man bethe husband of this woman!

Let it not torment the few who know what must have been the groundsof this exclamation, if I explain it to those who do not.

In London a shopkeeper and a shopkeeper's wife seem to be one boneand one flesh: in the several endowments of mind and body,sometimes the one, sometimes the other has it, so as, in general,to be upon a par, and totally with each other as nearly as man andwife need to do.

In Paris, there are scarce two orders of beings more different: forthe legislative and executive powers of the shop not resting in thehusband, he seldom comes there: - in some dark and dismal roombehind, he sits commerce-less, in his thrum nightcap, the samerough son of Nature that Nature left him.

The genius of a people, where nothing but the monarchy is SALIQUE,having ceded this department, with sundry others, totally to thewomen, - by a continual higgling with customers of all ranks andsizes from morning to night, like so many rough pebbles shook longtogether in a bag, by amicable collisions they have worn down theirasperities and sharp angles, and not only become round and smooth,but will receive, some of them, a polish like a brilliant: -Monsieur LE MARI is little better than the stone under your foot.

- Surely, - surely, man! it is not good for thee to sit alone: -thou wast made for social intercourse and gentle greetings; andthis improvement of our natures from it I appeal to as my evidence.

- And how does it beat, Monsieur? said she. - With all thebenignity, said I, looking quietly in her eyes, that I expected. -She was going to say something civil in return - but the lad cameinto the shop with the gloves. - A PROPOS, said I, I want a coupleof pairs myself.

THE GLOVES. PARIS.

THE beautiful grisette rose up when I said this, and going behindthe counter, reach'd down a parcel and untied it: I advanced to theside over against her: they were all too large. The beautifulgrisette measured them one by one across my hand. - It would notalter their dimensions. - She begg'd I would try a single pair,which seemed to be the least. - She held it open; - my hand slippedinto it at once. - It will not do, said I, shaking my head alittle. - No, said she, doing the same thing.

There are certain combined looks of simple subtlety, - where whim,and sense, and seriousness, and nonsense, are so blended, that allthe languages of Babel set loose together, could not express them;- they are communicated and caught so instantaneously, that you canscarce say which party is the infector. I leave it to your men ofwords to swell pages about it - it is enough in the present to sayagain, the gloves would not do; so, folding our hands within ourarms, we both lolled upon the counter - it was narrow, and therewas just room for the parcel to lay between us.

The beautiful grisette looked sometimes at the gloves, thensideways to the window, then at the gloves, - and then at me. Iwas not disposed to break silence: - I followed her example: so, Ilooked at the gloves, then to the window, then at the gloves, andthen at her, - and so on alternately.

I found I lost considerably in every attack: - she had a quickblack eye, and shot through two such long and silken eyelashes withsuch penetration, that she look'd into my very heart and reins. -It may seem strange, but I could actually feel she did. -

It is no matter, said I, taking up a couple of the pairs next me,and putting them into my pocket.

I was sensible the beautiful grisette had not asked above a singlelivre above the price. - I wish'd she had asked a livre more, andwas puzzling my brains how to bring the matter about. - Do youthink, my dear Sir, said she, mistaking my embarrassment, that Icould ask a sous too much of a stranger - and of a stranger whosepoliteness, more than his want of gloves, has done me the honour tolay himself at my mercy? - M'EN CROYEZ CAPABLE? - Faith! not I,said I; and if you were, you are welcome. So counting the moneyinto her hand, and with a lower bow than one generally makes to ashopkeeper's wife, I went out, and her lad with his parcel followedme.

THE TRANSLATION. PARIS.

THERE was nobody in the box I was let into but a kindly old Frenchofficer. I love the character, not only because I honour the manwhose manners are softened by a profession which makes bad menworse; but that I once knew one, - for he is no more, - and whyshould I not rescue one page from violation by writing his name init, and telling the world it was Captain Tobias Shandy, the dearestof my flock and friends, whose philanthropy I never think of atthis long distance from his death - but my eyes gush out withtears. For his sake I have a predilection for the whole corps ofveterans; and so I strode over the two back rows of benches andplaced myself beside him.

The old officer was reading attentively a small pamphlet, it mightbe the book of the opera, with a large pair of spectacles. As soonas I sat down, he took his spectacles off, and putting them into ashagreen case, return'd them and the book into his pocket together.I half rose up, and made him a bow.

Translate this into any civilized language in the world - the senseis this:

"Here's a poor stranger come into the box - he seems as if he knewnobody; and is never likely, was he to be seven years in Paris, ifevery man he comes near keeps his spectacles upon his nose: - 'tisshutting the door of conversation absolutely in his face - andusing him worse than a German."

The French officer might as well have said it all aloud: and if hehad, I should in course have put the bow I made him into French